


The Assests

by slowburn0117



Category: Hitman (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowburn0117/pseuds/slowburn0117
Summary: Seven years. Seven years had passed since 47 had defied Agency orders and become an independent contractor. He only had a skill set for one thing. But the best part was, now he picked his own targets from all the offers that reached him. Then word reaches him that his Diana is in trouble. She left the Agency the same time he did but she went off grid. Now her location has been compromised.Cassandra Winters, known to a few assets as Digital Interactive Analysis, Negotiations, and Accounting, or D.I.A.N.A. is in trouble. She defied Agency orders and gave 47 the answers he needed before going rogue. Independence was not something either of them had been programmed for. But what the people who made them didn't know, was that humanity can't and won't be programmed out. Nature will always find a way.But when her safe haven is compromised, it is 47 who comes for her. But what is between them is uncharted territory for both of them. Not to mention the flood of assassins that are after them both. The only way to make the world safer is to take on the very agency that created them. A mission like this can only end with blood in the streets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on movie characters. Not comic or novels. I do not own any part of the Hitman universe.

Prolog

"Who was the client?" The question blinked on her screen but her voice seemed frozen. "Answer me! Who ordered the hit on Belicoff? If you set me up, I will find you...and I will burn that building to the ground around you." Who indeed, she wondered but what made her marvel was the fury in 47's voice. Emotions were not something they were supposed to feel. So she began to dig, as fast as she coiuld to find out who it was. He didn't have a lot of time, neither did she. Monitoring local police radio was part of her heavy workload. Some how, 47's location had been given away. 

For a moment, she was stunned. The name flashing on accounts paid from was the private accounts of Mikhail Belicoff. Her brow furrowed in confusion. How did that make sense? She shut down her terminal and quickly left the building. Finding a pay phone not far away she dialed the number she had memorized. It rang three times before he answered. There was no hello, the phone just stopped ringing. 

"47? It's ... Diana." She said. He didn't know her real name, only knew her as Diana. "I could be retired for contacting you directly. The client was Belicoff or at least the payment came from his personal accounts. Your location has been compromised." She didn't hear the phone hit the ground but she did hear the explosion. He was on his own now. And so was she. They would know it was her, she had transmitted payment to 47's account. Knowung he would drain it as soon as possible. It was time to put her escape plan into action as well. She had spent the last several years outfitting a cabin high in the Canadian wilds to live off the grid. 

***  
He answered the ringing phone. There was no way it was the front desk. He had left specific instructions to never be bothered. Whoever this was, has his direct room number. 

"47?" The voice rocked through him like lightening. "It's ... Diana. I could be retired for contacting you directly. The client was Belicoff or at least the payment came from this personal accounts. Your location has been compromised." Just then, he heard it. The glass beads outside his door crunched under someone's boot. He dropped the phone and ran for the balcony. Diana would have to come later. He had a mess to clean up. 

***  
"Shit!" The man in the business suit cursed. "She's in the wind? And he's cleaned house?" The man sitting across from his simply nodded. He couldn't say things any better. Agent 3423 had broken protocol, sent payment to Agent 47, contacted him directly and breeched security, among other things. Then she had disappeared. And 47 had cleaned up the Belicoff mess, killing a dozen Agents sent after him in the process and gone independent.

"I thought these people weren't supposed to have emotions like this." The business man continued to gripe. 

"They are not." He answered. But it was something, a new development he was going to look into. He excused himself. There was nothing they could do now. He pulled out his phone as he left the building and hit speed dial. 

"Yes?" Answered the voice. 

"We have a problem." He stated.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, criticism welcome!

CHAPTER 1

It was purest kismet that her dossier came across his screen. Seven years he had been independent. He only had one set of skills and he was the best there was. A lot of people would pay top dollar for his discretion. But he had no intention of taking her out, so to speak. He wanted to talk to her and it looked like now was his chance. His fingers traced her features on the glossy picture. Her hair was very long and braided, hanging over her shoulder. It was a light brown and looked soft. Little hairs flew around her face in a breezy. Her skin was olive and clear. Her eyes were hidden by sunglasses but it was the tattoo on the inside of her wrist that caught his attention. The was the Agency symbol. Or at least a part of it. She had tried to cover it up with a bulky watch. 

The dossier said her name was "Cassandra Delilah Winters", Agent 3423 was her moniker. Like his Agent 47. Now the simply called him Hitman. She was 5 feet 5 inches, 245lbs of what looked to be mostly muscle with soft female curves. Hair, brown. Eyes, hazel. Skills were listed as unknown. She came from the PSYOps unit of where he came from. He wasn't sure was PSYOps was, but he added it to the list of questions he had for her. Her barcode was 103180-1313423. And it appeared that she was the only survivor of her experimental group. That meant they wanted her alive, if possible. To take her apart and figure out why she was the sole survivor. And involuntary shiver racket his body. They would no doubt do the same to him to figure out how he was able to over ride their obedience training. 

Hitman closed the dossier and tucked it away. It was a long flight from where he was to Canada. Might as well catch up on his sleep. He knew that once he had her, sleep wasn't likely to happen again until they were both safe. He just needed to figure out how to make that happen.

***  
Cassandra hefted her weekly food run into the house. Running into town was risky, she knew it. But the cold in the far North was not conducive to growing one's own fruits and vegetables. But she hunted for her meat stores. Cassandra put the food away and double checked the two go packs against the back door for all the supplies. She didn't know when they would come for her, but she knew they would. Just like she knew 47 would. His combat skills, combined with her survival skills would make them a formidable force. That was what the Agency had originally intended. Pairs. Genetic partners, but not siblings, that were so compatible that they could communicate without speaking and could do so along considerable distances. She had come across the files by accident but had stolen them. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. Not that she was supposed to be curious. She, by design, was supposed to be emotionless as their Operatives. But something had been changing, in all of them. Foreign things, emotions had begun to boil in them all. That was when Cassandra noticed the pattern. The Operatives that had begun to show some humanity where killed. Seemingly after a mission was "compromised". It was a disturbing pattern. Especially when she began to " feel". So she had played a game, a dangerous one. 

It took years but she had done it. Set up a self sufficient cabin in the high northern wilds of Canada. Solar/wind powered. Access to the underground spring for fresh water. And vast lands to hunt for food or to hide in. Part of her programming was survival skills. It was easy. She had a passport under a false name. Cassandra Smith. That she had used to cross the board or as they saw it, returning home. After she had picked up her supplies, she had dumped the rental car and bought an old truck from a farmer. She had the necessary mechanical skills to keep the beast in good working order. Now all she had to do was wait. It would be soon. 

The whistling of the tea kettle brought her back. She poured a cup of tea and headed for the small living room and the book she had been reading. A guilty pleasure to keep her company in this cold, dark place. Winter was arriving soon, which meant six months of cold and mostly dark. The sun would barely peak over the horizon for three hours before disappearing again. It was no problem with her enhanced sight but then it wouldn't be a problem for those hunting her either. 

***  
Hitman sat outside the little cabin until he was sure she was asleep. He wasn't sure how she was going to react to his sudden arrival, nor their need for a sudden departure. He didn't really know much about her training or skill sets. It was well after dark when he felt it. The shift. And he saw head lights in the distance. He cursed, a new habit of his. They were out of time. No one would be driving out here unless it was for her. He carefully picked his way through the forest toward her house but he was not trained for this type of terrain, so his progress was slower than he wanted it to be. 

It had been the better part of an hour before he reached the window he had been watching. It was a kitchen window, over the counter. He had seen her preparing a meal and it was a simple latch that he could easily open. He checked the window thoroughly to make sure it was not trapped. When he was sure, he slid his custom knife up and pushed the latch open. The window was heavier than he had expected. He mused as he pushed up with his fingers first until there was enough of a gap for his large hands. The window moved up with barely a sound until there was enough room for him to slide in, over the counter and to the floor. 

He made no noise as he entered or as he closed the window. She should have gotten a dsog, he thought moving on silent feet toward the bedroom. The cabin was a small two bed, two bath place. With a large living room that was dominated by a huge fire place and two large windows. The kitchen was separated by an island counter that held the oven and stove, as well as a serving counter. The counter he had just slid over held the sink and a drying rack for dishes. The loft held the master bedroom and that was where he was headed. He looked up the seven stairs, knowing one of them was bound to creak and give him away but the height was too much for him to jump, so he stayed to the outside of the stairs, in hopes to avoid any noise. 

***  
Cassandra wasn't sure what had woken her up, but suddenly she was very awake. Her book lay open against her chest, her knife under the pillow. There was no noise, or smell that would have woken her. So she lay perfectly still, her hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade, her other gripping the book to use as a projectile. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her breathing even. Adreline pulsing through her system. That was when she felt it, the soft brush of air as her bedroom door was opened. She kept everything in her cabin well oiled, more for her benefit. If she need to escape, it wouldn't do to have a door creak and give away her position. But now she realized that it also gave the intruder a benefit too. When she felt the air shift as someone entered, she didn't wait. She launched the book and drew the blade, throwing it as well. 

***  
Hitman was surprised that nothing made a noise as he moved up the stairs and pushed open the door. But what caught him by surprise was the soft book that came flying at his face and the blade that embedded itself in the door frame next to his face in quick succession. He caught the body flying for the bathroom before she could make it there. They went down in a tangle of limbs as she spun in his arms to fight.

"Cassandra." His voice held an order as he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head. He forced his hips into her guard, pinning her under his weight against the floor. She was strong, astonishingly so but she was no match for his weight and skill. "Cassandra!" He said with a little more force. 

***  
Cassandra didn't cry out as the weight hit her from the side. She cursed her aim as she spun in the intruder's arms to fight. She landed a few punches and knees before he pinned her hands above her head in one massive palm and his hips forced between her knees, using his superior weight to pin her hips to the hard floor beneath them. 

"Cassandra!" The voice permeated her adreline fueled brain. She made an adorable sound of confusion. 

"47?" She asked, ridiculous amounts of hope in her voice. He chuckled, the sound vibrating through the contact points of their bodies. 

"Yes." He said, marveling at how her body instantly relaxed under his. Bringing their bodies impossibly closer. A foreign sensation zapped through his system as his primal brain registered her female form against his. Before his mind could go further they both heard it. A car door click shut. Tension shot through both of their systems. He leaned down, his lips brushing her jaw as he moved toward her ear. 

"We need to go." He whispered. A shiver shook her body and she nodded. 

"Follow me," she responded. Her breath was hot across his cheek, causing those feelings to run riot in his system. He climbed off of her, pulling her up with ease. Her strong finger enclosed his wrist and she grave a gentle tug. He followed her movement easily as they made their way down the stairs and toward the back door. She handed him a white snowsuit and stabbed her legs through the legs of a second smaller suit. He raised his eyebrow but did the same thing. 

Cassandra zipped up the suit and slung the go pack over her shoulder, handing his to him, along with a pair of silenced weapons, tucking her own into the hoslters. She carefully opened the door and stepped out, followed closely by him. It took a while to find insulated snowsuits at wouldn't make noise as they moved. They had come in two weeks ago, along with the insulated sleeping bags that were good to -50°, an expensive buy but worth it with winter around the corner. 

She had packed each bag with one, extra ammo, several types of blades, fire starting kits and his with a tent. Hers carried all the files she had stolen before going to ground. Including two French passports of a "newly wed" couple. Adam and Eve LaMontange. A few hundred yards out of the back door she had hidden a few rifles and a set of bows with quivers full of arrows, that was their next stop. She dashed across the forest, feeling 47 hot on her heels as an explosion rocked the night. She skidded to a halt at the hiding spot, handing him two rifles and a bow with a quiver that secured to a thigh. She secured hers as she watched the cabin. It wasn't burning but the front door had been blown off the hinges. She felt bitter regret in her mouth as the team of four entered her house. 

Hitman clapped his hand on her shoulder, in a show of support. He had never had a place to call home like she had but being hunted was something he knew well. She went stiff for a moment under his palm before relaxing back against him. He had to admit that her preparations had surprise and pleased him. What had caught him off guard was the stuff she had prepared for him. Like she had known he would come. It was a bit unnerving to realize she had known he would co!e before he did. Another question added to his list.

"Come." She spun quickly, gripping his hand. She took off at a steady jog, him following behind her. Following her exact foot placement, she obviously knew this terrain better than he did. And from what he was quickly learning, she was trained for this type of survival. They set what a normal person would consider a blistering pace, but for them was a morning jog. 

***  
"No sign, sir." Said the voice on the other line. "She is not here but couldn't have been gone long. There are fresh groceries, perishables and the like." The man nodded. Damn PSYOps. If 47 had gotten to her, she was going to be near impossible to catch. Damn the Agency for that failed program that had been a glimmer in scientists eyes when these two had been created. The thought briefly crossed his mind to just let them be. After all they had not caused any issues until they were in the crosshairs. But it wasn't his call. His hand found his own barcode, hidden in his hair. If only the governments of the world knew the truth and the aspirations of the Agency. Not to mention the reach and the danger it presented. 

"Call in the wilderness retrieval unit." He sighed, knowing his orders were to find them both and bring them alive if possible. "Find them." 

"Are you sure he came for her?" The voice asked. The man looked down at his file. 

"Positive."


End file.
